Into this shop, which was low and small, and which was darkened rather than lighted by a little window, overhung with clothes, and was descended into by some steps, I went with a palpitating heart; which was not relieved when an ugly old man, with the lower part of his face all covered with a stubby gray beard, rushed out of a dirty den behind it, and seized me by the hair of my head. He was a dreadful old man to look at, in a filthy flannel waistcoat, and smelling terribly of rum. His bedstead, covered with a tumbled and ragged piece of patchwork, was in the den he had come from, where another little window showed a prospect of more stinging nettles, and a lame donkey. “Oh, what do you want?” grinned this old man in a fierce, monotonous whine. “Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goroo, goroo!” I was so much dismayed by these words, and particularly by the repetition of the last unknown one, which was a kind of rattle in his throat, that I could make no answer; whereupon the old man, still holding me by the hair, repeated: “Oh, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want?” “I want to know,” I said trembling, “if you would buy a jacket?” “Oh, let’s see the jacket. Bring the jacket out.” With that he took his trembling hands, which were like the claws of a bird, out of my hair. “How much for the jacket?” cried the old man. “Oh, goroo, how much for the jacket?” “Half a crown,” I answered. “Oh, my lungs and liver, no. Oh, my eyes, no. Eighteen pence. Goroo.” Every time he said goroo his eyes seemed in danger of popping out of his head. “Well,” said I, “I’ll take eighteen pence.” “Oh, my liver,” cried the old man, throwing the jacket on the shelf. “Get out of the shop. Don’t ask for money, make it an exchange.” He made many attempts to make me consent to an exchange, at one time coming out with a fishing-rod, at another with a fiddle, at another with a cocked hat, at another with a flute. But I wanted the money to buy food. At last he began to pay me in halfpence at a time, and was full two hours getting by easy stages to a shilling. My bed that night was under a haystack, where I rested comfortably, after having washed my blistered feet in a stream. When I took the road again next morning it was through hop fields and orchards. The orchards were ruddy with bright apples, and in a few places the hop-pickers were already at work. I thought it all extremely beautiful, and I would have enjoyed it if it had not been for the people I met on the road.